Gilded Hearts

                                                      -----------Glimpse-----------

The stillness of the penthouse felt just like some gilded cage pushing me down.

I still could hear my mother’s rasping breaths in my head alongside seeing a hopeful smile on my brother’s face when I told him about tuition. Survival along with books in addition to breath that is what the money represented for me.

Under a man who looked directly at me as though I were some poison wrapped up in pearls, I found myself still wrapped well in silk I’d never truly own.

With sleeves rolled up and jaw clenched, Damian stood on the other side of the room. A particular storm brewed within Damian's eyes.

“You think I don’t see through you?” His voice was sharp, practiced cruelty.

“Marrying me was just your ticket. Admit it. You got what you wanted: my name and my money. Isn’t that what gold diggers dream of?”

The word seared through me. For a moment, I almost believed him. Hadn’t I signed my name on that contract, bartered my freedom for funds? What else was it but a transaction?

I had sold myself, even if it wasn’t for diamonds and gowns but for hospital bills and textbooks. My chest tightened with shame; I couldn’t quite swallow.

“I never wanted your money for me,” I snapped, my voice trembling against the fire in his. “I wanted it for my family. For a roof over their heads, for medicine to keep my mother alive. But you wouldn’t understand that, would you? Because everything in your world comes served on a silver platter.”

Damian closed the distance in two strides, his face inches from mine. His anger was a heat I could feel against my skin. “Don’t play the martyr. You’re no different from the low-class women who throw themselves at me for a taste of wealth. You just wear your desperation better.”

The insult burned, but before I could hurl words back, his mouth was on mine. It wasn’t tender; it was a punishment, a forceful claiming.

I pushed at his chest, fists curling in defiance, but his grip was iron at my waist. And the worst betrayal? My body wavered. The resistance bled into something else, something I hated myself for. My lips betrayed me, pressing back against his, a spark catching fire where there should have been nothing but ice.

The kiss deepened, reckless and consuming, carrying us backward until the bed caught me. He followed without breaking the pull, and for a fleeting heartbeat.

He was kissing me hungrily, while his hands keeps on moving from my breasts to my ass

I forgot everything: Edward’s deal, the money, and the venom in Damian’s words. It was only us, tangled in a kiss that felt like it could destroy and save in the same breath.

Then, just as suddenly, he tore away. The loss of him was a whiplash, air rushing back into my lungs. I looked in his eyes until they landed dark and unreadable, and before the certainty of a bare crack of his hand hit the air to my cheek.

The pain burned deep without a sound; I felt air drive deep to my ear, but it was his words that ripped me in two.

"You are nothing but a whore," he smirked, voice like melted sugar, and spoke terribly with disdain.

"A woman who has no self-respect."

The taste was still sharper on my lips, bitter as ash. I grabbed my stinging cheek, thinking about if this was what Damien meant: a man who clearly despised me, and I despised myself for even wanting him back a few moments before.

Damian’s gaze raked over me with venom, his voice low and merciless.

“This marriage will be a nightmare for you, Sophia. And I’ll make sure of it.”

"The countdown to your disaster begins right now," he spat and walked out.

The words cut deeper than did the slap since they promised torment and the silence. At that moment, I realized survival in this marriage would be another kind of battlefield.

Love had no place here, only fire and ruin.